


The Story of the Lady

by fleete



Series: Pornathon 2013 [1]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: F/F, Femslash, Orgy, Summer Pornathon 2013
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-12
Updated: 2013-07-12
Packaged: 2017-12-19 05:54:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/880208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fleete/pseuds/fleete
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's nowhere to look that isn't naked flesh.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Story of the Lady

**Author's Note:**

> **content notes** : casual assumptions of cisgender, situational dubcon

“Today, in honor Lady Vivian on the occasion of her marriage, we tell the Story of the Lady.”

This is absolutely mad. Gwen shuffles her feet awkwardly, her toes scrunching the blankets on the floors. Her eyes flick from ceiling to floor, because there’s nowhere to look that isn’t naked flesh.

“Every woman has a lady betwixt her legs.”

Queen Annis is presiding over these ridiculous proceedings in an embellished nightgown, her voice floating forcefully over the gathering . The rest of them—all of the ladies who had come for Vivian’s wedding—are clustered naked around Vivian in her bed. Gwen’s shoulder is pressed against Princess Mithian’s, and Lady Elena is across the bed, arm in arm with some other girls. Vivian herself is also nude, her skin and hair shiny with the oils they’d rubbed in with their fingers. 

“…a beautiful but occasionally timid lady whom you must woo with respect and restraint. You must stroke her home,”—and here Gwen snaps her glare away from Vivian, oh dear God, what is Annis _doing_ to her—“…and compliment its fine appointments and ask the lady’s permission to enter. Vivian?”

“I give permission,” Vivian says. She looks relaxed and happy, legs spread with abandon, clearly enjoying all of the attention.

Before this started, everyone had bathed together, which was not so odd. Gwen spent years sharing bathwater with her fellow maids. But tonight was clearly not meant for bathing. Women wandered around the room naked, sipping strong wine, and still, absurdly, addressing each other as Lady This and Princess That. The fire in the hearth roared heartily, and everyone in the room dripped with water, or bath oils, or sweat.

And now, here they are, apparently having some sort of Roman orgy that every noblewoman but her has done before.

Even with her eyes on the bed hangings, Gwen notices when Annis puts both her palms against Vivian’s mound and urges her thighs apart, and Vivian obligingly lifts her knees up. Annis uses her fingers to part the curly hair and skin. “Inside the house lives the lady in the cloak. See? At the top is her head, covered in her hood, and her robes.”

Gwen tries not to look, but everyone else is craning their necks and Mithian makes an interested noise beside her, so she risks a glance. And then another. She has never seen a vagina so exposed before. She’s never even seen her own, and she wonders if she looks like that, all pink and blooming. It does look a bit like a woman in a cloak, with a pink nub encased in a hood that ripples down like a flowing dress.

“As you touch her more and more tenderly along her robes and her body and her house, she will begin to show her face.”

Annis’ fingers make a careful, rolling pinch around the so-called ‘head,’ and Vivian’s breath turns shallow. Even with the embarrassment burning in Gwen’s face, she can feel herself beginning to respond.

“And then, when she is ready, you may ask the favor of a kiss. My lady?”

“Please,” Vivian whines.

Gwen assumes that “kiss” is another metaphor, so she is completely unprepared for the moment when Annis bends and puts her thin lips against that swollen, pink spot. Vivian gasps. Annis moves her lips and purses them and makes a circle with her mouth, and then, oh—

“Remember that all the best kisses include tongues,” Annis whispers throatily before opening her mouth over Vivian’s cunt and licking.

God.

Gwen’s focus is so riveted that she startles when she notices that some of the women around her are moving, their hands working below waist level. Lady Elena is rocking her hips, and Gwen feels a shock go down her spine when she realizes it’s because the woman behind her has her fingers up Elena’s cunt.

“Your Majesty?” Mithian whispers at her shoulder.

Gwen can’t take her eyes off the way Vivian’s feet are flexing, but she becomes doubly aware of the slick between her legs when Mithian’s fingers brush low against her hip.

“Usually, this is when….” Mithian clears her throat, but the undulating, groaning women around them make her point for her. “May I?”

It takes two tries to swallow, Gwen’s throat is so dry. “All right.”

Mithian drops to her knees, and then, surprisingly, everything becomes quite simple: the sight of Elena’s bouncing beasts, the sound of Vivian’s screams, the feel of Mithian’s perfect, pointed tongue.


End file.
